\--==Official Submission==-- FROM: General Debinani Rahl RE: Chapter Seventeen - The Fall of Pietr the Fisherman Pietr was a simple man. He enjoyed his life, poling his flatboat through the rivers and swamps near Papua in search of food. He loved his family, his wife and three rambunctious daughters. It was simple, and that's the way Pietr liked it. He always knew that there was a bigger, greater world out there beyond the swamp, but he didn't much care. He really didn't want anything to do with it. The world however, was not quite finished with Pietr. One day, not long ago, Pietr poled his flatboat up to the stilts to his home and tied it off and noticed something sparkling in the mud. A piece of gold or jewelry lost in the swamp would be a welcome addition to today's catch, thought Pietr. He thought about buying his wife and daughters new dresses for holiday with the fortuitous find. Pietr sloshed through the mud and unearthed the source of the sparkle. They were rings, two of them, nearly identical except for color. Even encrusted with mud they were beautiful. Pietr could not resist placing the ring with the diamond on his finger. Poor, simple Pietr. At the moment he placed the ring on his finger, simple Pietr was no more. Pietr was dead. His wife and three little girls would get no new dresses for holiday. The one once called Whisper stood in the mud and flexed his new muscles, testing their ability. They would need some work, he thought to himself. He examined his surroundings and noticed the house on stilts, the glow of a cook fire dancing playfully through the open windows. Whisper smiled wickedly at his good fortune. He picked up the other ring, the one with the obsidian stone and the intricate roses carved in its body, and carefully, lovingly cleaned it off and placed it in his pocket. Whisper was still loyal to his goddess, and he would continue to be in her light for all of eternity. Whisper, Ringwielder of Air, Warlord of the Army of The Stormbound Night, smiled at some private joke, and began to climb the ladder to see his new family. --- Somewhere far, far across the sea, on an island shrouded in mists that blind men's eyes and turn their sails, a city waits. At the center of the city stands a monolith, a tower made of the blackest stone reaching into the clouds like a single talon of a bird of prey. At the top of this tower, cloaked in twilight, is a room, a room with a single adornment. The Throne of Despair is a simple thing. It looks as if it is made from rough-hewn granite and steel. Sitting atop this throne is a woman, both beautiful and terrible to behold, her arms and legs bound by chains of the strongest steel, and she is sleeping. One night, not long ago, the echoes of an inhuman chuckle permeate the room. They linger for a few moments, allowing their message to be received, and then silence reigns once more. The woman's head has lolled to the side during her long slumber, her full lips slightly parted and her long, black hair draping over the side of the chair. A deep rumble once again breaks the silence as a small quake shakes the tiny island, the tower, the throne, and its occupant. As the sound fades and the panicked cries and fanatical cheers fade into the normal bustle of the city, the woman stirs. A small, nearly imperceivable shudder passes through her naked, chained form... ...And her eyes open.